


Vices

by Freyous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angels, Angst, Demons, Fantasy, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29364858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freyous/pseuds/Freyous
Summary: A world affected by demons, politics, vices, and economic disparities creates many different types of people: Loque, a farm boy who was destined to be destitute's life is changed on a journey; Az'que, a man whose journey was cut short yet whose life had just begun; Freyin, a king who seeks to be a great ruler and uncovers the secrets of his nation; and Luchia, a holy woman whose life has been dedicated toward helping and healing coming to terms maybe she can’t help everyone.
Kudos: 1





	1. Loque

In the darkness, there was only one point that drew him forward. A light in the distance flashed in and out of existence like lighting. With each spark, time would pass and his distance from the light would grow shorter and shorter. Within the darkness, time seemed to be amorphous, the time between the flashes could have lasted seconds or years to him but all that he knew was he was drawing closer to it. There was a swelling in his heart that seemed to be anticipating to see what the light was up close. Though the amorphousness of time was weighing him down, his legs were aching as if he was walking for hours without rest. Even as his heart seemed to beat with stress, the anticipation still drove him.

After what seemed like days, he stood before the light. He thought it was a light that was slowly leading him to the exit of the darkness, but as he stood before the flashing light source he felt as though he made no progress. He wished he ran deeper into the darkness and further away from this ‘light’. The light was a darkness to him, it took all of the joys of light from him. Staring up at the bright light, he saw facial features that managed the shine through the light. The curve of lips as if it was a distortion of light, eyes that seemed to match the curvature of a face that was all but lost to the light, yet still managed to shine its way to him. With each flash of light burning into his retinas, what remained in his vision was the visage of whoever the face belonged to, a person he could barely remember. Along with the image being burned into him, the facial features would change ever so slightly each time as if it was slowly but surely getting to the right face, however it didn’t need to be exactly correct for him to know who it belonged to

The memories of who the face in the flashing light belonged to brought a pain he wished he could have buried away. All he had were the memories, the actions of the person, yet the face was drifting further and further from his mind as he made more attempts to remember what they looked like. He knew it well that it was a woman with a soft face, but his pain and anguish directed towards her actions blinded his memories more than this light burned his eyes. 

He opened his mouth to speak; to tell her to leave, to yell at her; she should have just never come back. Yet no words left his lips. He didn’t even feel his mouth move to carry out his words, so he would reach up to his mouth, though there were no hands to act. He was formless. He was simply a traveling source of memories that wandered the darkness to be faced with a pain he could not confront. The man in the darkness wanted to turn around from the blinding light and jet back off into the eternal space, but he found himself being transfixed on the visage by a force that would not let him leave. 

The woman would respond to him despite his words never even leaving his lips. The words that would leave her lips would be as soft as a hand on a child’s cheek, a perfect response to his anger,” Loque…” 

That is all she needed to say. It did not quell his anger, it just made it more furious. Saying his name… she didn’t deserve to say his name. Say his name in that tone as if it would make anything better. _Even if she gave him the name_. He wanted to scream, not just speak to her, to confront her for the pain he held deep in his heart. Though like last time he had no mouth to speak to her. Yet, unlike last time she would not respond to him. 

The darkness would slowly consume the woman’s visage. The flashings growing more and more sparse. It continued until there was the last flash of light that held the woman’s face. It was clear as day as if pulled from _that_ day. Her real face lasting for if half a second before the darkness would swallow up everything for the last time. And there he was, left alone in the darkness. 

* * *

Loque found himself jerking up from his bed. He was drawing in sharp breaths through his nose as his hands ran over his body. It felt very jarring to come back from a dream so simple but held so much meaning. As his hands felt his own arms his breath would slowly calm as he grounded himself in reality, he had a body. It was an odd thing that that is what he had to realize to reassure himself, but when he realized he was just a consciousness floating in a dream his mind must have panicked that it was true. It was strange how minds worked… But he didn’t have time to worry about the philosophy of things. He didn’t have that luxury. Now that he was awake it meant his body had rested and he should begin to work. Though part of the reason he wanted to start his day was so that he didn’t have to spend time thinking about the dream he had just had.

Moving out of bed he shivered as the cold outside air was poorly held back by the walls of the house and the window. He seemed to have sweat in his slumber and that only seemed to add to how cold he got. As Loque made his way out of his bedroom he reached for his shirt that hung over his chair and tugged the coat that hung from the corner of his door off. Making his way out of his room he put the articles on and went into the main room of the small house and started a new fire in the ashes of the one that must have gone out overnight. He spent a minute or so trying to light it to bring warmth to the small house and once he had finished he sat in one of the three chairs that surrounded the fireplace. Two chairs on either side of him that would slowly begin to warm up with the interior as a whole. Looking towards the right chair he saw the unused rocking chair lit by the warmth of the hearth. The symbol of a home, now giving life and warmth to a place that so needed the touch of warmth to make it home.

Against his better wishes, he found himself getting lost in thoughts he didn’t wish to have. Thoughts of what truly made a home, why what this was wasn’t _really_ a _home_ in other people’s definition. He pulled himself from the chair he sat in and made his way to the kitchen with only 6 steps. He looked for something to sate him or to distract him, as he was looking he stared out the window. A snow-covered field that almost blanketed all of their property, only the house remained uncovered, the barn, and _the tree_. It was almost beautiful how the snow draped over the land and made it look like there were rolling hills of marble, though the beauty was lost when the farms knew their profits would be cut as the harvest season had ended and planting and growing produce were more or less pointless during this season. Before he got lost in more negative thoughts he stuffed his mouth with a piece of bread and went to fill his waterskin with snow and let it melt inside it near the fire.

He exited his house and stood by the only clear path they had managed to make. A direct path from the entrance of his house to the barn, and the midsection of that path to the town nearby. The morning sun had just begun to crest past the horizon, the blue tones of the night’s sky that had shown on the snow were slowly being overtaken by a beautiful pink glow that had been given life by the sun. He basked in it for only a moment before he shook as much snow as he could fit in his waterskin, he’d probably do this process a few times to get as much water as he could. He entered into the house as quickly as he could as to not let much more cold air into the house, though it seemed to be in vain as he heard a soft noise of discomfort. He looked over to the other man of the house as he sat on the far left chair in front of the hearth. 

He had weathered skin, tanned from the sun and by heritage. Chestnut brown hair that had begun to recede years before, and slowly began to whiten. Despite all of these signs of the time taking their toll on the man, his broad shoulders and strong arms suggested he continued to work.

“Loque…,” As he began his deep gravelly voice reached the ears of Loque, though to him he could always hear the care in his voice. “Do you have everything you need to begin the trek to Fiendeer…?” 

Loque gave a nod to the man. He had the wool that would be sold readied days before, he had brought their cart to the town so he wouldn’t have to deal with all the snow when it inevitably piled up on the farmland. “Yes, father.”

“Did you hire a hunter to go with you?”

As the question left his father’s lips, Loque’s eyes moved away. It was response enough.

“Father… we barely make enough from the wool to get by… and we’re not growing any crops to help with sales now.” Loque’s voice was soft as he spoke. Eyes not wanting to face his father at the moment, it had been on the list of things he had to do and he hated when his father found out he didn’t do something that he had requested.

“Loque, whether we have enough to get by is one thing. Whether you make it to Fiendeer alive is another.” His father’s voice was stern. There was no anger, nor was there any hint of him trying to chastise his son. There was simply genuine concern. “The fact that it’s the day of leaving might make the cost a bit higher since most people give the hunters at least a day’s notice.”

“I’m sorry.” His eyes finally met back with his father, sometimes he had to force himself from being non-confrontational and shying away when he did wrong.

“There’s no need to be sorry you had the best intentions, but the world might not care for your intentions as I do. Now, please go into town and hire a hunter”

“Yes, father.” 

“And…” His father began, before the sentence even finished Loque knew what his father was going to say. “While you’re in town head to the church and pray. For my sake, in these times you need spiritual safety as well as your bodily safety.”

And that was the end of the conversation. Loque’s father closed his. There was still more time for him to rest before he had to get up and tend to the animals in the barn. He was only awake now because Loque letting cold air in, but he wouldn’t complain. He took things in stride, he had to with everything he has been through and everything in life that has been thrown at him. Loque would never argue with his father’s wishes, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t at times resent the requests his father gave to him. As Loque went to his father’s room to get his coin purse he couldn’t help but think how especially hard this winter would be. They sold the meat from the animals they slaughtered already and they had used that money to repair the barn’s damages. All they had left now was enough money to get food if they needed it from the town across the way. Chickens can only lay eggs so often and they had learned from winters before that sometimes it’s not often enough.

He attached the purse to his hip and he couldn’t help but notice how light it was, Dr’as were already light truthfully, but every time he entered into town on his father’s wishes it kept getting lighter with little being added to it. A simple loaf of bread costing around 10 to 20 M’os during the wintertime, money had to be kept tight. With his hood up and underneath this large winter coat of his he still found himself shivering. There wasn't any snowfall at the time but as the wind would blow here in there it would kick up a light dusting of snow that would brush his face and sting from the cold.

Under his breath, he’d curse the snow, the winter, the situation, the fact he had to hire a hunter to come along with him. His father probably saw all this resentment that was born from their situation, that might’ve been the reason he wanted him to visit the church before he went out on his journey. Loque may have had all of this resentment stirring up within himself, but none of it would ever be toward his father. Just the situations that got them there. To this fact with everything that was weighing on him in the form of resentment and emotions he couldn’t control, maybe a visit to the church before he left would be the best decision before a journey.

The normal 10-minute walk to the village stretched to 15 minutes as he trudged the snow. He felt goosebumps all over his arms underneath the layers, he could also feel some snot running down his nose that had unfortunately frozen above his top lip. As he stood on the path that had been more properly cleared for the people who made their way through the village he looked around to the buildings in this old familiar town known as Kar’iq. Loque moved his arm up to wipe away the frozen unpleasantry on his nose as he figured where he should go to start. He didn’t want to go into the church first, he didn’t know how long that would take. His eyes moved towards the town's hunter’s hall. Tracing the wooden structure he found himself gripping the coin purse attached to his hip. He needed money. No, _they_ needed money. He and his father were already running thin and they had only gotten one month into the cold season. Despite these thoughts of his own, his father’s directions rang through Loque’s head. Against his own judgment, he made his way into the hall. 

Pushing past the creaking door he entered into the hall. There was a small room in the front with an older looking man sitting behind a desk. Face and skin weathered like Loque’s father, but scars painted the man’s face.

“Aye, Loque what brings you here on this cold morning.” The man greeted Loque. 

As the door closed behind Loque he tapped his boots against the wooden floor to get some snow off. “Well, H’ydie I’m looking for a hunter to accompany me on a journey to Fiendeer.” 

H’ydie nodded at Loque’s words. “Well son, do you have a certain deadline you need a hunter by?” He reached for a ledger underneath the desk. Thumbing through it he looked through names of hunters who were currently available for jobs, and their prices. Knowing Loque H’ydie would probably recommend a hunter on the cheaper end.

“2 past noon.”

As he had just begun thumbing through the ledger he looked back up toward Loque. “You know that is extra.”

Loque was silent for a moment and let out a soft sigh. “Just who’s your cheapest hunter?”

“There is Fedil, though without reservation…” His eyes return to the ledger. Scanning through his price and price without reservation. “That’ll set you back… 100 Dr’as.”

“That’s horse shit H’ydie.” Loque took a few steps toward the desk. “I know damn well his price is 50, there is no way he has an additional 50 Dr’as price increase for an order without reservation.”

Once Loque stepped closer to the desk and his tone changed, H’ydie stood up. His stature dominated over Loque. “Well, his prices have changed in the wintertime.” The look on H’ydie’s face had dis-interest painted on it. “Listen, son, you aren’t the only one who has to make money here.”

Loque gritted his teeth at H’ydie’s comment. He wanted to come up with some snarky reply, but nothing left his lips. The only thing that left Loque was a deep angry sigh that left his nose.

“Loque if you can’t afford the prices then you can leave the hall.”

“Or what? Does it look like I’m holding up your business?” He motioned to the empty room.

“ _Or_ I can get one of our trained hunters, and don’t forget training isn’t cheap, and have you leave.”

Starting a fight was on the bottom of Loque’s desires. He hadn’t even done anything. He wasn’t going to do anything. He was just making a comment. “Fine. I’ll leave.” He would dejectedly accept resignation to this _fight._ He turned a heel and began to leave the building. He replayed what had just occurred in his mind and tried to retrace his steps to what lead it to get that way. He wanted to be angry, but in the end, he knew the real answer for why tension rose so quickly. Money was really tight in the winter. H’ydie and Loque weren’t arguing with each other, just with money.

Once left the hunter’s hall he kicked snow that was in his path. He looked around to the other denizens of Kar’iq. Few of their eyes met Loque’s as they made their way through the street. His eyes dropped and he just began to walk like the rest of them. They had their days ahead of them, they didn’t have the time to care about someone else who was having it hard. They all had it hard. He wouldn’t expect anyone to take time out of their busy day to help him, it wasn’t their job. If someone wanted help they would go to the church… and that happened to be on his list of tasks to accomplish before he left for Fiendeer. His eyes lifted toward the direction of the Church. He shook his head and lifted himself up, straightening up, and continued on toward the church.

His feet carried him toward the dreaded location. He didn’t have any deep-rooted animosity toward the church, he just felt as though it wasn’t necessary. Loque didn’t get other people’s reliance on the church. There were tangible benefits to going such as Mythrion becoming lighter after atonement. Though seeing he was neither a holy man nor was he a soldier who relied on the lightweight weaponry, the benefit was lost on him. His father simply wanted Loque to go there for his spirit to be lighter, and Loque knew that. However, Loque didn’t see any difference in having a lighter soul just for atoning for one’s vices. 

_Atonement is just a lie bad people can tell themselves to make themselves feel better for their actions._

That is the thought he used to have when he was younger. With time it changed from such a cold outlook to more of

_Atonement is a waste of time; that bad people can use to make themselves feel better for their actions._

A little bit different of a change over time but it goes to show the development of his ideas. Still people he respected went to atonement, they went to worship, they went to pray in hopes that their deeds made _their_ god happier. His father did. And so did…

“Loque?” A soft female voice called out to him as the door behind him closed once he had entered the church. Standing across the way she was tending to some roses that could grow anywhere if given proper attention. The blonde woman wore the vestments of the church; a white rob that didn’t reach the floor, a Mythrion necklace that looked like a head with three holes in it for the eyes and one on the forehead, and a light blue mantle that dipped and rose like waves with a blue trim that was reminiscent of waves and their sea foam. 

He looked toward the woman who called his name. No words leaving his lips as his eyes just simply held on to her own.

The woman set down the tool she was using to strip the roses of their thorns and smiled at Loque. “It has been some time since you have come.” 

“It has been, Luchia.” In his reply, he pushed a tone of happiness or endearment into his voice. It wasn’t disingenuous to do it, though he just didn’t know how to approach her. 

“How have you been? How is your father?” There was a glint in her eyes of caring. He never knew how to respond to it, not to her words, but to her attitude. 

He paused for a moment before speaking. “I’ve been doing good, he’s been doing good. We’ve just been keeping to ourselves.” That pause was so he could prepare to speak with a smile. 

She had continued walking across the small interior of the church to get to Loque, her shoes clicking against the polished stone floor and the tone echoing throughout. “That’s good to hear, very good to hear... “ her tone slightly dropped as she was up close to him now. Loque stood 4 inches above her so her gaze was slightly raised as she stood in front of him. She had known him long enough to know the smile wasn’t as real as it could be, but she knew it wasn’t her place to speak on it.

“Yeah…” Loque felt so rigid. They used to be so close, but now it was like talking to someone from another world that he once knew. “Well, um. I’m here for atonement before my trip later this afternoon.”

Her smile almost faltered as Loque so quickly tried to push his main reasoning for coming. He could have at least held up the pleasantries a bit longer. “Ah, wonderful, I’m glad you’ve come. Follow me.” Even though she wished to hold a conversation with her old friend longer, she wouldn’t get it in the way of her job.

Loque followed behind her toward the back of the church. To the Living Room. As they walked they passed wooden carvings of the story of Cardain and Latnus, old stories that painted the religion of culture of the entire nation, the entire world. He looked around to the empty pews that populated the small chamber which held services. Memories of times he used to come with his father, with her when his father couldn’t come. All fond memories, but looking back now each time he was here he could have been working more. 

“So Loque,” she began as she opened the door that leads to the Living Room, a fairly sized green room that had many more of the white roses Luchia had been tending to along with other flowers. “Where will your trip take you?” As she asked she went to sit in a chair next to the center point of the Living Room, the tree that represented the foundation of this church in particular. Each church had one and it helped to represent life and its sanctity.

“It’s just a simple trip to Fiendeer, taking wool and planning on trading.” Loque went to sit the chair on the other side of her own.

“That trek will take at least 3 days, right?”

“3 sounds about right to the trips I have taken there before.”

“And…” She began to form her next question, but before she could finish Loque would interrupt her.

“I’m sorry Luchia, I just. I have a busy day so could we get this atonement out of the way?” There wasn’t annoyance in his voice, more so anxiousness. It bothered him that he didn’t know how to keep up conversation with her anymore.

Her smile had finally faded, though it wasn’t replaced with a frown. Just more of a neutral expression. “Ah yes, my apologies. I know how busy it is when someone has to make time for you.” 

That stung Loque, but he wouldn’t comment on it. He’d just take it silently and settle into the chair he sat in.

“Now to begin... “ She effortlessly pulled the necklace off her neck that bore the symbol of Cardain and held it toward Loque expectantly.

He felt himself tucking his lip bottom lip into his mouth to begin biting at it as he stared at it, but he stopped himself before he bit. Silently he held his hand out to receive her necklace.

She would drop it on to Loque’s hand. To her surprise, she would see Loque strain to hold it up with one hand, so he brought his hand to his lap and he continued to hold the necklace. “Well, it seems you are in due need of atonement.”

“Yeah, it seems that way.” He hated Mytherion. The fact just by the way he held it could show her how unclean he was. How the vices within him painted him. He hated the way she could stand tall with this dumb metal that makes him strain just to hold it.

“Now… tell me what vices do you wish to speak of and for me to lift off your heart, Child of the Makers?” She closed her eyes and along with that her body seemed closed off as she spoke to him.

He swallowed and his grip around the necklace tightened. To him, it felt as if the air in the Living Room had gone still the moment she closed her eyes. “Well…” he tried to remember the right words to say, “before a witness of Cardain, I will admit and… _atone_ for my desire.” The Mythrion necklace in his hand began to heat up. It was apart of atonement. It didn’t burn it was just an uncomfortable heat. 

“And what may have you desired?”

“Like everyone else in this town-”

“Loque.”

Right. It didn’t matter. This was about him admitting to his own vices. “I have desired wealth and prosperity.”

“Now wouldn’t that be greed?”

“No, I don’t want it for myself. I want it for my father.”

She went silent for a moment. “Might you have other vices you wish to admit to?”

For a moment the thoughts of last night’s dream flashed in his mind. The animosity he held. “No.” The necklace began to burn at the lie, but he kept his face neutral toward Luchia whose eyes were still closed.

“Desire is the only vice you have to admit and atone for?” Her voice sounded skeptical, though to many others it would sound impolite. For such reason, she would never say that in the tone. However, in response to such a blatant lie, at least to her, she couldn’t help but inquire in such a tone as that.

“Why would I lie before a witness of a god?” He didn’t have smugness in his voice, yet it dripped in his thoughts. His breathing hitched as the necklace felt as though it was searing his skin, but he played it off as a sigh. “Are there any more questions you have, witness of Cardain?”

She was silent. In that silence, the symbol burned more and more into Loque’s hand. It stung and he could feel it shooting into him. She knew this and wanted him to experience it before speaking again after a few moments would pass. “I have no more questions as the holy witness… Loque…” she paused for a moment as she had almost said a title, but his family had none. She cringed inwardly at herself, she didn’t want to disrespect him… at least not in that way. “As the holy witness your vices have been atoned for, and I shall pray for your strength in resisting such vices again.”

At her words, the necklace’s heat went away. It was like it had never been burning at all, yet the memory stung. He stood up and went to gently hand the necklace over. It was almost weightless to him. Atonement took away the weight of the symbol, even if you lied your way through it. However, it simply meant the weight of it would just return even quicker. “Thank you Luchia for your time, I’ll be going now.” He went to turn a heel to leave.

Luchia quickly sat up and reached for his wrist. “I have no more questions as the holy witness Loque… but I want to know when will you let that weight off your chest?”

He made an audible swallow at her words. He didn’t like when people tried to analyze him. Not his father. And especially not her. “I don’t wear Mytherion so I don’t-”

“Loque. I’m worried about you. I don’t want this to eat you up.”

“And it won’t.” He gave a short concise answer as he pulled his wrist from her grasp and turned around to face her down again. “I live on a farm. I tend to crops and animals. What I chose to not say won’t affect me there.”

She shook her head. “You never understood.”

“I understand that you want to do this for yourself. You want to think you saved me, but Luchia I don’t need saving.”

“I don’t want to do this for myself, I don’t want you living the rest of your life resenting-” she cut herself off and averted her gaze. It was not her place to talk of that. Not as a holy woman… and definitely not as a friend.

He gritted his teeth and for a moment he did feel a weight on his chest. A burning weight that he never wanted to acknowledge. “And who said it’s your place to help.” He spoke to her coldly, his black irises staring deeply into her blue eyes.

She felt herself shrink at her words and she backed up against the chair. “Loque-”

“I have to go… please, pray for my father while I am gone. I won’t be here to make sure he is well. If you want to help at all. Check up on him.” There was more he wanted to say. ‘ _If you wanted to help you would have checked up on us more.’_ Though that really wasn’t her job… and she had gone to check up on them, but like today he didn’t know how to talk to her anymore so he would always avoid conversation with busy work.

“I… yes of course.”

With that, he turned around and left the Living Room. Leaving her behind. Leaving behind his _desire_ , but still carrying his resentments like a ball and chain.

He needed a bite to eat… and a drink. The tavern would be good right about now.


	2. Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loque sets out on his journey with his childhood friend

_… And when those children stepped down from the mountain with the memories from the birth of the world, their journey had begun. Driven with the weight of humanity on their backs, and the hope of their father’s world as a whole resting on their minds._

_\- The Life of the Children of Lukso_

* * *

Loque had made his way into one of the few taverns in Kar’iq after dealing with Luchia. Maybe _dealing_ with her wasn’t the nicest way to put it, but how else could he describe the altercation? To him, he felt like he was just dealing with her trying to butt into his issues where she needn’t. She didn’t need to be so intrusive into his personal matters, though he supposes he did come to literally admit his faults. Though if it was anyone else they wouldn’t have tried to delve further into Loque, they would have accepted his admittance at surface level. Luchia… always cared. _Too much_. Others would be grateful to receive such care from another, especially a holy person taking time to deal with their issues. But Loque never asked for her help. He never asked to have so many things in his life that she saw the need to ‘help’. He just wanted to go on in life with all that he already had to worry about, he didn’t want her to get involved or let her get dragged down with his issues. From a young age, he did, after all, distance himself from her and filled his every day with working for the sake of his father and the far. 

Shaking his head he let out a tired sigh as he got comfy on his stool while he relaxed in the warm interior of the ‘Sour Wall’. A place he was familiar with from getting occasional meals the few times he did eat out, but he tended to get whatever was cheapest, and his custom even continued to the current day. The bartender had served him up his plate of just simple eggs and bacon. He could only assume from what meat the bacon had been made from during this season. The Sour Wall hadn’t been known for its top-quality ingredients, more so for its ‘competitive prices’ as the owner had like to refer to them. Loque poked at his eggs with the wooden tableware provided him, noticing a few shells populating his breakfast. As he took down a spoonful there would be no complaint or bother on his face, it was cheap and warm. That was his only thought, aside from being thankful for being able to eat in a place where heat remained. 

Loque slowly ate his breakfast to prepare himself for the journey ahead, one couldn’t travel with their eyes open on an empty stomach his father once said… or was it Grive the bartender? That wasn’t the most important thing at the moment, the lesson still held its weight all the same. He had been leaning over his meal, keeping to himself as time passed and people’s conversations permeated through the air. In keeping to himself Loque did not expect to be bothered nor for someone to make conversation with him, he didn’t have a reputation for being a cold person who was closed off, just that he usually came into town for business or a drink with a friend. And with that came people thinking he may have been too serious to approach as a stranger. However, those who knew Loque more personally didn’t really mind that serious air he had around him and had no issue butting into it. One friend, in particular, didn’t mind butting into Loque’s alone time.

“Loque!” A hearty male voice called out to him, and before he had to react to it he felt his shoulder being clapped by the male’s strong hand.

Loque jerked slightly at the interaction and dropped the utensil he held along with its content. Closing his eyes he let out a soft, yet long sigh before responding, “Hey Karas…” Loque didn’t have to see his face to know exactly who it was. In fact, even if Karas didn’t call out, the fact he clapped his shoulder spoke much to who it was.

Karas sucked air through his teeth as he watched the spoon fall. “Ah sorry-” Bending down Karas retrieved the spoon, thought the eggs had been scattered on the dirty floor. “I can get the eggs too-”

“It’s fine Karas.” He reached for the spoon in Karas’s hand and began to just go on for another bite. No sense getting upset over lost food. Though his growling stomach would protest.

He scratched the back of his neck and sat at the stool next to Loque. “This wasn’t taken by anyone, right?”

“It’s taken by you and your beaming personality,” Loque patronized behind a mug of heavily watered-down ale.

“I know that was sarcasm, but I’ll take it as one of your rare compliments.” Karas flashed a stupid ignorant grin, though anyone would be lying if they said it wasn’t charming. That along with his dirty blonde hair that fell on the sides of his head and framed his face nicely.

“I think you’re the only one who would Karas.” Setting down his mug he just went back to eating silently as if he had no company next to him.

“I heard you went to the Hunter’s Hall earlier this morning.”

“Mhmm…” Loque let out a deep bored sigh as he chewed.

“I also heard you left in a huff.”

“Mhmmm…”

“Loque, I could get you a job with the Hunter’s. You could make enough to support you and your father.”

Loque closed his eyes and set down the spoon. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t leave for days to weeks at a time. I have… obligations here.” His eyes met Karas’s for the first time. “Plus I’m just not meant for that kind of job.”

“My ass you aren’t, you’re in better shape than some of the hunters and all you do is farm all day.”

That one stung a bit, but Karas seemed to be oblivious to how his straightforwardness wasn’t really the _nicest_ thing to say to others. “Well… thanks?”

“Why did you even try to hire a hunter?”

“Didn’t H’ydie tell you what I went in for?”

“No, was I supposed to ask?”

Loque was gonna say something, instead, he would just sigh and get back to eating. 

“Was I? I kind of just went looking for you after he said ‘that friend of yours has a real temper,’” Karas puffed his chest out and deepened his voice to mimic H’ydie’s tone. The leather armor he wore made the gesture slightly less impactful as it held his chest back a bit.

Holding back a laugh at the horrible impression, Loque swallowed down the rest of the eggs and then hit the table. “Mmm… Well, it has been a bit since I have been there, I would say I am amazed you found me… but considering this is the only meal I feel comfortable affording in town…” His eyes gazed down at the spilled eggs on the floor. “Your deductive skills are great.”

Watching Loque’s eyes move down to the eggs Karas would nervously scratch the back of his own neck. “Well to make it up to you for intruding on your meal, I’ll get you some more eggs!”

“Hear that Grive,” Loque called out to the bartender who rolled his eyes. “He’ll also get me a refill.” 

Anyone but Karas would have been annoyed by the additional order that Loque had tacked on, but Karas’s pockets always seemed to be a little bit heavier and more generous after he finished a job. Today seemed to be one of those days he seemed generous. “And one for me!”

Loque made a half-hearted smile toward his friend. “So, how did your last job go?”

“It went fine, you know it’s not really that difficult. Besides, in the winter the beasts don’t really try to make any daring moves, it’s as hard for them out there as it is for us you know.” Karas spoke as he held his hand down on the table to catch a mug of ale that was slid down the countertop. 

“‘ _It’s not really that difficult’_ you know with that persuasion I might as well have to join your ranks.” He shook his head before taking a sip of his newly refilled drink.

“Well, sarcasm like that Loque the job might not be for you if you piss off every customer who might want to hire you.”

“And a job that requires charisma is great for you it seems, I am quite surprised you didn’t just pick up an instrument and run the town.” 

Their dry sarcasm was near palpable in the air as their gazes met once more for this conversation. A silence hung in the air before they both cracked smiles and took drinks. “You know Loque if you need a hunter’s assistance I could always lend a-,” Karas cut himself off as he leaned back to comically stretch and flex before continuing, “strong helping hand to a man in need.”

He rolled his eyes. “Karas I couldn’t afford your services even if I wanted to. I’d make it back from the trip and still owe you money.”

“Well, friends and family discount.”

“Well, I’ll adopt you if the just family discount is greater.”

“Funny Loque. I’m serious, free of charge. I know how tough it is for you all right now. It is the least I could do, aside from buying you shitty eggs.” Karas commented as Loque’s new plate of eggs was being set in front of him. That comment earned a divisive glare from Grive. “Oh don’t give me that look, I’m paying for it.”

Loque looked up at Grive and just gave him a thankful nod as he began to dig in. “Is there anything I can do for you to repay you for your offer?” There was a sulking tone in his voice that suggested his disdain for debt.

“You can come to my wedding!” Karas said, beaming.

Loque just nodded. Wait. What? “Karas- when did you get engaged?” Loque was older than Karas by 8 months, so it was surprising that his younger friend’s life was moving quicker than his own. No, it wasn’t really surprising. At 22 maybe his life may have been moving a bit further if he actually spent time with others. 

“Oh… I proposed to Biron before I left on my last trip.” Karas spoke nonchalantly as if these weren’t important moments in life. And to Karas they probably weren’t, they were important at the time, but he was constantly moving forward and looking to the next important moment. From engagement to the wedding, from that… to who knows where.

“That’s amazing man… yeah I’ll definitely come to your wedding.” Loque was genuinely happy for his friend, however, he just was still processing his own life in contrast to his friend.

“Great Brion will be happy to hear that,” even though he had mentioned the proposal with nonchalance, mentioning his fiance directly seemed to be what gave the most rise out of Karas’s heart. “Also, I know I already agreed to be your hunter, what job did I agree to?”

Karas was the say yes, and figure it out later kind. It made him a good hire for those who wished to do unsavory business, but Loque couldn’t even imagine living that kind of life. One without concern. “I just need someone to accompany me to Fiendeer, just a simple three-day trip, maybe a day or two of rest there, then straight back.”

Karas nodded. “I should probably tell Biron that I’ll be going, I just got back into town.” 

Loque just blinked at Karas. And so did Grive who was just cleaning a mug in the background. “You… came to see me, before your fiance?”

“Uhh… well. Yeah?” Karas didn’t see the issue in it- oh. The realization set on his face slowly. “I should probably go talk to Biron right now, shouldn’t I?”

Loque nodded. “Yes, but don’t forget to pay for my meal first.”

Karas let out a soft anxious chuckle, trying to play off the amount of trouble he was in, as he reached into his coin purse and set down generally the amount of money that was owed. “Give the change to Loque, I should be going.” And with that, he stood up and left. The swords at his sides swaying with careless motion as he moved at a brisk pace.

“Meet me at the stable after you get your ass handed to you, okay?”

Karas just gave a wave of acknowledgment before leaving the establishment.

Grive looked up at Loque after the money had been set down and he just waved his hand in the air. “Just… keep the change.”

Loque would finish up eating his eggs and drinking his ‘ale’ and then thank those around him before making his own leave. Fortunately for him, he had met all of his father’s requirements so his journey would meet the utmost safety, at least in his father’s eyes. All of this busywork he had to do before the journey seemed like a waste of time and precious money, but in the end, Loque would carry out his father’s wishes. They’re all they had left, so there was no sense arguing over these minor things. If his father wanted him to pray, he would. If he wanted him to waste money, he would… _begrudgingly_ . There was one thing he would never do for his father, _leave_ . They truly were, _all they had left_. 

In the fashion of not wanting to waste time, Loque swiftly made his way to the stables where he had a wagon being kept that was stocked with all of the supplies for his journey, rations, tools, and of course what he’d be selling. He pulled a small little notebook from an inner pocket of his winter coat and deferred to his ledger as he counted the number of wools that populated the wagon. He knew it was probably safe enough to leave them here stored in the stable, but he still wanted to be sure. His eyes darting across the tightly packed piles he set together, he added them all up mentally before consulting the ledger. It all seemed to add up. Loque let out a gentle sigh of relief as he was now able to sit at the head of the wagon and relax for a few awhile. Putting the small ledger away he would reach into another inner pocket and retrieve a small dagger. It was made of some metal that Loque didn’t care enough to familiarize himself with, but he just knew it was good enough to defend against wild game that wandered near the barn.

Holding the dagger tightly in his hands jabbed in front of himself at the cold air as if there was someone there. Then swung it about with untrained precision. The thought had crossed his mind to join the hunters once. However, a lot of them could have already afforded the swords and armor before anyone hired them. Who knows, maybe in another life he took Karas up on his offer. Maybe his life would have been easier and he could have made his father’s life better. As he tended to do, he shook the thoughts from his head quite literally by shaking his head. Wanting to distract himself from things like better lives he could be living if circumstances were different he put his dagger away and just laid back for a bit. He closed his eyes and let the darkness pull him closer as he dozed. Sleeping anywhere, at any temperature, was his superpower one would say. Though being a light sleeper wasn’t apart of that repertoire.

“Loque!” Karas called out toward him. He was looking around the stables trying to find Loque.

He felt his body jerk slightly as he would have just begun to doze off while waiting. “I’m in the wagon storage part!” Groaning, he sat back up. From last night’s dream giving him an unrestful night, that nap he was trying to get would have been his only good sleep for the day since he was about to hit the road for 3 days straight.

Footsteps and whispers would get closer to Loque as he settled. The next voice he heard would be a woman’s voice as the tarp that ‘secured’ the storage area was moved to the side. “Loque, can you believe Karas? He’s not even back for an hour and he’s already planning to go out again.” Biron shook her head disapprovingly though a smile painted her lips. She and Karas made a good match; smiling through everything.

“Hey well, it's for a good cause!”

“The good cause is Loque Karas.”

Loque blinked. “Am- am I supposed to be offended by that, because I kind of am?”

Karas and Biron looked at each other for a moment before letting out a soft laugh, though Karas’s was more forced as he probably didn’t realize if he should be laughing. “No, no Loque you’re not. It's fine, I am just upset,” Biron pinched Karas and he jumped in pain, “that my _fiance_ isn’t spending more time with me.”

“Oh don’t worry about Biron, I’ll keep him safe on this journey.” 

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around Karas. Whispering something into his ear that Loque didn’t pick up. ‘ _Keep him safe.’_

Karas returned the hug and made an affirming hum in her ear before retracting from her. “Will do, love.”

Loque shifted his gaze from the two and pretended like he was counting the wools in the cart. He was happy for them, he really was, but he couldn’t bear the sight. Not that he hated public displays of affection, but seeing his friend so happy while he could barely get by… it stung.

Karas gave Biron a kiss on the lips to them which lasted an eternity, yet an eternity too short before they parted. “I should be back in a week or so if all goes to plan, and I promise to take a few days off from working to plan the wedding with you.”  
“Mmm… I’ll hold you to that.” Biron began to leave the stable before turning back. “Loque, I’ll bring your dad some food while you’re gone, okay?”

Loque turned back from ‘counting’ and smiled at her. His eyes showed his appreciation as he just gave her a gentle nod. He owed everyone so much, and he hated it. Loque always felt like he could never return these people’s kindness even with a lifetime of good deeds. The least he could do was be grateful, but at times he faltered at that because of the circumstances he dealt with. 

“I’ll hitch up the horses for you Loque. You can keep counting, or whatever it is you’re doing.” Karas began to get the horses from the proper stable area where they were being kept.

In about 10 minutes they had properly hitched the horses to the wagon. Part of the reason he didn’t want to hire a hunter was that he had to rent horses, and he saw that as more important than hiring a hunter for a trip. Not to be rude to the hunters, there were just bigger priorities than an extra set of arms. Loque had taken his spot in the front seat and held the reigns. Karas had taken a much more comfortable position among the wools, however scratchy they might be, he relaxed on warm pillows as the wagon began to get pulled by the horses. Dull grey clouds had taken over the sky from the once open sky. This dreary sight guided their journey ahead, along with a somewhat clearer path that had been made out of town before it would just be dense snow that the horses would trudge through. A 3-day journey he had told everyone, that's in hoping the snow doesn’t pile up anymore and make what little ‘path’ there is impossible to follow.

They had an 8-hour journey ahead of them for today. The dull grey clouds that now painted the sky along with the white rolling hills made the already long journey feel like it lasted an eternity. An open white vastness made it seem like the cart didn’t make any ground at all. Looking backward the only proof that any progress had been made was the tracks left by the horses and the cart. The destination set before them had no visible signs of drawing near, the only signs were the darkening daylight, the fatigue Loque and Karas both shared, and the slowing pace of the horses that must have been freezing in this cold weather. Loque and Karas attempted to make small talk throughout the journey but it was all just pointless banter that was lost like a snowflake in the waves of snowbanks around them.

They made it through about three-quarters of the day’s journey when they reached a densely packed forest known as the Thill L'eon forest. There would be a break in the treeline for their path to continue, this at least was a good sign to know they were making good time and still on the right path. A cold breeze blew past them as the horses trotted into the darkened forest. It was about 6 in the evening at this point considering they had left at noon. They could continue to push the extra two hours, though in the darkness of the forest it wasn’t the safest idea even with torches they had lit to keep the path ahead visible. 

Karas tapped Loque on the shoulder and directed his attention to a clearing that had been cleared by other travelers over time and had been used as a common resting place over the years. 

Wordlessly Loque guided the horses in the direction of the clearing as they approached it. A two-hour loss of their journey wasn’t the worst thing to happen. They’d just leave earlier in the morning. “I’ll set up the fire, can you tie the horses to a tree?” It was less of a question and more of directions, though there was no protest from Karas as they had made their way into the clearing.

Once the wagon had been guided into the clearing and the horses stopped, Karas carefully unhitched each horse and then tied them safely to a nearby tree. “These horses deserve a treat for all their hard work today,” now that both horses were properly tied Karas reached into a bag he had brought along with them and fed a carrot to each horse.

Loque’s gaze followed the food Karas had fed to the horses. He understood the point of keeping morale up, even in animals, but in times like these, it seemed like a waste of food. Loque didn’t spend too much time worrying about it because he set himself to work with clearing out some of the snow so they might have a more comfortable resting place for the evening. With a shovel he had brought as a part of his gear to prepare for the journey he would begin making a large enough area for them to set up their bedrolls and fire for the night.

“Need any help?” Karas made his way to the wagon to see if there was a spare shovel to help clear snow out.

There wasn’t. “No, I’ll just be a few minutes.” He planned to come alone after all.

Those few minutes dragged on as he worked alone. Once all was clear they set up the fire with some dry logs Loque had made sure to bring. Karas lit the fire using supplies from his tinderbox, and soon enough they had a wonderful roaring flame that cut through the cold night’s air. Karas set up his bedroll and Loque set up his opposing him on the other side of the fire. Karas sat close to the flames and their warm glow licked along his paler skin, painting his features. Loque kept to himself this evening, letting half of his body be warmed by the flames as he kept his eyes toward the wagon.

“You know Loque…,” Karas started, attempting to get his attention, “you said you can’t be gone for days and weeks at a time… but going out on these journeys to sell things, that is being gone.”

Loque turned his attention towards Karas through the flames.

“That is days of work missing you know, and I know you don’t wanna miss a lot of days…”

“Karas if this is another way to persuade me to join the-”

“Loque, just listen. Is it _really_ important you’re out helping on the farm all the time?”

He just stared as the flames crackled between them.

“I mean… I’m just being honest, I know you guys aren’t making a lot right now. I don’t think that that lifestyle is really sustainable at the moment.” Karas spoke bluntly. 

Loque hated hearing Karas talk so self-righteous, just because he struck gold in his field and didn’t have to take care of his father… No. Loque didn’t hate hearing Karas talk like this, he was just upset it was directed at him. He would just remain quiet as Karas spoke to him, though he felt resentment build inside himself. _It wasn’t his place to be telling him these things._ No anger in those thoughts, just resentful for the fact it was being told to him.

“Luchia has told me how last winter you guys almost starved,” Karas said in a stricter tone in an attempt to elicit a reaction out of Loque. Something, anything. Yet, Loque just sat there with a stone face staring back. Karas let out a tired sigh. “Loque. Are you really going to spend the rest of your life on the farm?”

He gritted his teeth at the question, at the mention of Luchia, at the mention of his hardships. “Maybe I will. It was my father’s, and his father’s.”

“Do you really want it to be your son’s ‘ _father’s’_?”

That struck a nerve. It was too close to home, especially with the thoughts of last night’s dream in his head he didn’t wish to have this discussion at the moment. “What do you want me to say, Karas? I don’t want to live in a shit hole village with town’s people who barely know me, or live on a farm that I can’t live off of, or do you want me to admit that I need a better job?”

Karas’s eyes darted around, he didn't know what answer he really wanted. He just knew he should have this kind of discussion with him. Who else would? “I-”

“I do this for my father… because we’re all we have left.” There was more to that answer, but this was all the answer he wanted to give at the moment.

“And you could better support him with-”

“With money? That isn’t the issue Karas-”

“Then what is?” He cut Loque off as his eyes reflected firelight as he stared at Loque.

There was an answer that Loque knew, but he didn’t want to respond with. So his silence was his response.

“Loque, can’t you tell me? I’ve been your friend since we were kids…”

“I just... “ Loque’s broke from Karas’s as he looked off uncomfortably.

“You just what?”

“I-”  
Suddenly, their conversation was cut short by the neighing of the horses. Their heads moved as they tried to pull from the trees their reigns were attached to. They kicked in the air and continued their wailing neighs into the night. Accompanying their sounds the wind kicked up a bit and the blowing sounds mixed with the wails created a cacophony of terror. Loque and Karas both looked around to see what may have spooked the horses. Loque made his way to the horses and tried to calm them down by placing a hand on one of their bodies, but as they bucked back and forth in fear of something unknown it was hard to make them still.

Karas looked about more anxiously seeing as the horses moved about in such a fashion. He rested his hand on his blade, keeping it sheathed for the moment to not cause any more anxiety in the horses. “Loque do you see anything out there?” He turned his back to the horses and looked in the other direction of the dense horses. Pulling out his blade effortlessly, the Mytherion blade reflected scattered firelight around him. 

Loque soon gave up trying to calm the horses and looked around past the horses. He saw… nothing. Just a dark empty forest. “I… I don’t see anything.” 

As if cloaked in the howling of the wind and the wails of the horses in Loque’s ears, something moved undetected in their camp. Karas would have no time to react as his back was turned to what had approached. Loque’s attention was turned to the other part of the forest, but one sound cut through all the other sounds too late. There was a deep guttural exhale of breath and after it, it was like time stopped. Loque turned to see the hunched-over beast in the snow that’s pale skin let black veins show very apparently on its body. Its pale skin was blue and purple in areas from the cold, one might mistake it for a hurt animal if this was the only gaze that was seen. Though its tattered clothes with blood stains told a different story. 

The humanoid creature lurched at Karas before Loque’s eyes. Its arms swung wildly and knocked the wind out of Karas with the vicious strike. Deep gashes were made in the leather armor as it swung, clawing at the armor as if it was flesh; ripping it and shredding it. Karas was knocked over by the force of the creature’s assault. His sword fell beside him as he was forced to the ground. The creature’s hands moved uncoordinatedly as it attempted to tear through the armor with an animal-like sense of ravenousness.

Karas let out a scream as he thrashed about, trying to turn around to face the demon to defend himself from it. Though the demon’s weight and constant strikes against Karas made it too difficult. 

Loque for a moment felt a cold chill run over himself, a paralyzing fear took him over as he saw his friend get attacked by this beast; one he had only read about and seen in scriptures. He had been fortunate enough to never face one until now. Seeing a _demon_ in person terrified him to his core much more than he ever thought it might. However, hearing the screams of his friend pulled him forth from this paralyzing fear that struck him. Loque’s feet moved without thinking through the snow as he tackled the demon off of Karas. 

Karas gasped for a breath as the weight and persistent strikes left and watched as Loque tumbled out of the clearing with his arms attempting to restrain the demon. His eyes watched with terror as _his_ friend now put himself in danger to save him. “Loque-”

The demon growled in Loque’s grasp. Its upper arms were pinned to the side as Loque restrained him on the floor. Loque’s grasp didn’t prevent its hands from slashing through Loque’s clothes and cutting into his flesh. Its back would arch against Loque’s chest and thrash its head back, hitting Loque square in the nose.

“Agh-” Loque choked out. He could feel the burning sensation in his leg as deep gashes had been made. Blood began to leak out of his wound and he could almost feel his grip loosen as he comprehended the pain he was in, but his adrenaline drove him to keep his hold. But, as the demon’s head slammed into Loque’s head he could pinpoint the moment when he stopped thinking and his body just went into autopilot. The grip tightening as he buried himself and the demon deeper into the snow.

Reaching for his sword, Karas got up shivering. Being taken down so suddenly shook him, but unlike Loque, there wasn’t a fear that kept him still, even for a moment. He made his way toward Loque and the demon on the ground.

The demon’s eyes darted toward Karas, not his person, but toward the weapon with fear clearly in its eyes. Its body moved unnaturally for anything with a human form, its shoulder blades popping out more as they twisted and contorted their body against Loque. With one more violent hit against Loque’s head, his grip faltered allowing for the demon to scurry out of Loque’s arms and move with great speed on all fours toward Karas.

Stars, Loque saw stars as he lost his grip. Once he had realized that he has lost his grip, he squeezed his arms around snow. He coughed into the snow and curled up as he was nearly choking on blood his broken nose was letting drip into his throat and out onto the white snow.

Karas finally faltered for a moment, seeing Loque’s face as a bloody mess in the snow. This single moment was his biggest mistake as the demon moved quickly and swiped forcefully at his legs. Karas’s grip on his blade was not wavering this time, yet he still fell to the ground.

The demon grabbed onto Karas’s ankle and stood up. The demon was surprisingly strong for its size, though all demons were. Its muscles tensed and black veins popped as it lifted the weight of him. 

He swung violently at the demon’s leg, slashing at an angle. As the blade made its way into the demon’s flesh its weight seemed to increase tenfold, the speed of the swing seemed to continue as the new weight of the blade helped it cut clean through. 

There was a sizzling sound of boiling flesh as just above the demon’s ankle was cut off. Thick black blood oozed out of the open appendage. Any _man_ would have fallen to his knees from the pain, but this was no man. _Not any more_. It fell to its angled nub of a leg and lifted Karas higher off the ground. With an enraged scream, it vigorously threw Karas a few feet deeper into the forest. 

Karas let in a sharp breath as he was thrown, preparing for the impact. Expecting a softer landing, though with tree cover the snow he had expected to be there when he fell was much thinner. He had landed hard on rocks, further down than he had expected as there seemed to be a ledge from where they previously were. The wind was knocked out of him for a second time and he was gasping for breath, attempting to regain composure enough to fight. The sword had been let go of his hands as he flew through the air, but he tried to reach for it as if it was next to him.

Back on all fours, it approached, leaping once more unto the hunter. In a fit of rage, it raised its arms high and slammed down on Karas. Karas would convulse underneath the demon and try to block the blows, but he couldn’t find it in himself to keep defending. 

Wails filled the air as Karas was beaten upon, and Loque could hear his friend in need. He tried to force himself to his knees from the ground. Hand over his mouth he made his way toward the sounds of his friend. He moved his hand and blood covered it, but he just kept moving. 

Reaching down with a foot holding the body beneath him down, the demon ripped Karas’s leather armor off, exposing the simple clothes underneath it. The demon’s hands moved to lift Karas’s neck to pull him from the ground, the back of his armor also falling off.

Karas kicked his legs while gasping for breath, despite the fact he couldn’t take it as his throat was being crushed by the demon. His hands shambly tried to pull and scratch at the demon’s hand to take it off of his throat, to no avail.

The demon’s black eyes stared like a vast emptiness into Karas’s. An empty pit for his hope to escape to as the demon viciously slammed Karas back down to the ground. 

All was still for Karas as a beating continued. His eyes stared up at the dark cloudy sky after his back made impact with the stones beneath him. He wanted to run away, to make sure Loque was okay. But his legs… they wouldn’t move. His back hurt so much. As the demon continued to slam his fists down on to him the pain of the rocks beneath him started to go away. But the fists pummeling into his chest and stomach continued to rage on with pain.

Soon the demon got tired of just beating and moved to rip off Karas’s shirt. His chest was exposed to the cold wind, but the bruised and broken body before him stopped giving protest. Two claw marks were gashed into his chest, blood pouring out. 

Loque now stood at the ridge watching his friend get absolutely pummeled. He could just barely see Karas’s eyes, they didn’t look resigned to death but there was no fight in him. Looking around Loque picked up a large stone nearby that took a little effort to hold and charged the demon.

Karas laid there dying slowly at the hands of the demons. He had heard from other hunters how your life flashed before your eyes when you were about to die. But, he thought his life was just beginning… what flashed before him was so short.

The demon’s senses were overwhelmed by the beautiful smell of blood and by the euphoria of destruction. It wouldn’t even register the approach of Loque.

Carried with the momentum of his charge, Loque brought the stone up high, before bringing it down on the demon’s head. The cracking sound of its skull was very apparent, though it took more effort to break through its skull than one might think. It stumbled forward and then attempted to crawl on instinct like a wounded animal. Loque then jumped on its back and lifted the stone high again and let it crash on the back of its head again. The cracking sound was less loud this time as it was mixed with a more wet tone, along with that blood splashed back on the stone and onto Loque’s face. 

It screamed in a sound that was inhuman but carried the anguish of humanity. Its hands and arms jerking after each hit as if to crawl away, but soon it was still. Underneath Loque the demon eventually stopped moving, its muscles stopped tensing, and its screaming died down. Even after that, Loque’s strikes didn’t cease until his arms grew tired. Maybe it was to make sure it was dead, maybe it was for what it did to him… but in reality, it was something he had pent up inside of himself for gods know how long.

Loque let go of the stone and fell back into the snow. The cold snow wrapping around his body as he sunk deeper, his chest rising and falling intensely as adrenaline continued to flow in his veins… but looking over a few feet he saw Karas, eyes open and unmoving in the snow. He scrambled to his friend’s side and let his hands wander over the wounds. He felt tears well into his eyes as he stared down at his friend, though… his chest rose and his chest fell very slowly. He was alive. “K… Karas…”

His eyes moved to meet Loque’s with tears of his own. “Loque… I can’t feel my feet…”

All went cold and still for Loque once more this evening. Like when he was stricken with fear that his legs almost didn’t move, but it was a cold rage that took him over. A cold rage and pain that was indescribable, something that struck him in his heart. Guilt. Guilt that… he did this to his friend by bringing him… he should have died alone, rather than let his friend get hurt like this. “Let me get you up... “ 

“Loque… Loque I’m scared…” His breath hitched as his hands shook by his side and attempted to reach for his wounds. It was good to know he could still move his hands, but Loque made him keep his hands at his side.

“You’ll be fine… just…” Loque took off his coat and put it over Karas before lifting him on his back. “Just…”

“It just… kept… hitting me into the rocks I couldn’t do anything I…”

Loque remained quiet as he took him back into camp. He brought him into the cart, his blood staining the wools that could have made him enough money to make it barely through the winter. Loque got basic healing supplies that he had brought. He used some of the water of melted snow to clean the wound before he wrapped the bandages around him. Karas simply remained still as the work was made of him. There was no protest or anything to make the process more difficult… because he couldn’t do anything to protest. Simply let the work be done to him and be thankful. As blood left his body, slowly too did hope. The most cheerful man Loque knew, now lay before him bloody and broken.

Hopefully, another party might come across them tomorrow… they were in no condition to travel further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, if you enjoyed please be sure to leave a kudos or leave a comment if you feel so inclined!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story begins for a debt-ridden man in another country from Loque whose journey shares similarities.

A warmth washed over his face as he opened his eyes, maybe from a nap. He couldn’t remember how he got here but he didn’t mind. He had awoken on a fresh bed of green grass on what seemed like a beautiful summer’s day. He would sit up and look around as the warm sunlight beamed down on him.

“Az!” A voice male’s called out to him as he looked around. 

Turning around behind him the source of the voice was right behind him. It was slightly jarring, however, it didn’t faze him as if it might have normally would. It just seemed normal that they appeared before him. “Ah, hey!” He looked up at the man who loomed over behind him. As ‘Az’ went to meet the man’s gaze, but the man’s face seemed fuzzy like Az couldn’t quite focus on his face. Though an unknown familiarity with the man made Az feel at ease with him.

The man extended a hand down to him as he sat on the grass. “Your mother made lunch while you were resting out here.”

Reaching for the hand, he was pulled up to about chest-height of the man before him. “She did?” Mother…? then this would-be father. He continued to look up at the man before him before his eyes finally managed to focus on the man before him. A clearer picture of his father’s fair skin, green eyes, and scar on his left cheek became more apparent as he was able to associate memories with the man before him. It all seemed to be so normal that this was happening and he felt no need to question the validity of what was occurring.

“Of course she did, lets go before it gets cold.” Still holding Az’s hand, he gave it a gentle squeeze.

Az blinked and he was walking inside a house. He didn’t remember the steps that took him to get here nor the direction he moved toward to get to this location in general. Though like the rest of it, he accepted the ambiguous movements of the space around him.

“Az’que, you’re just in time for lunch,” this time a womanly voice called out to him.

Az’que looked beside him to see if the man who accompanied him was still there, but he wasn’t. Looking to where the woman’s voice came from he saw his father standing next to... His mother yes. Her face was a little blurry even though he knew who she should be. 

“I made your favorite,” she spoke in a soft tone as she motioned toward the table for him to sit at, “go on, before it gets too cold dear.”

He made his way to the table and sat at it and looked to the bowl before him. It had some liquid in it with things inside of it, it seemed to be a soup. He sniffed above it to ascertain what it was made of, however, there was no real smell to it just a feeling of ‘home’ which washed over his senses that told him to trust the meal as he did his parents. Reaching for the spoon that rested on the right-hand side of the bowl, he used it to get a spoon full of the soup. “Mmm…” A satisfied hum left his person as the flavor of ‘happiness’ filled him. He went to look over to his parents but just his mother remained. On her blurry face, a somber smile remained as she looked down at her son. Looking towards the doorway of the house he saw his father’s back as he left. “Where is father going?”

His mother reached and placed a hand on Az’que’s shoulder. “Away…”

“But…” As Az’que spoke again his voice sounded deeper. Blinking, he was in a new location. On the bedside of his mother holding her hand. “Where… are you going?”

“Away… remember Az’que… I’ll always lo-”

* * *

A sudden chill shot down Az’que’s whole being as he was ripped from this world of closure. His mother’s bed, his house, everything was ripped away and darkness replaced it.

Az’que’s body tensed up as cold snow had fallen directly on his neck. His brown hair sloppily matted to his face from a mixture of snow and frozen saliva. His beard near frozen solid as well. He quickly would turn around and dart his eyes around and would quickly find his boss standing before him, as well as the alleyway Az’que had slept in for many nights.

“You awake?” He asked with a rigid tone, kicking Az’que’s leg making sure he could still move. “Did the frostbite get you in your sleep? Can you work?”

“Aye, aye. Eill, I can work I can work.” Az’que looked up past the walls of the alleyway he slept in toward the sky to gauge the time of day, though as with wintertime one could never truly tell. It was either light, dark, or darker outside when the clouds covered the vast open sky. 

“Good, cause I have a job for you today.” Eill bent over to grab his arm and pull him up. “I need you to deliver a package to Kthartor.”

Az’que was yanked up and then dusted off his cheap winter coat. He shivered underneath it as in standing up some of the snow Eill dropped on his neck slipped down to his back. “Mm…” He groaned as he brushed some of his hair out of his face with a crunching sound as it broke some of the ice that had formed. “Do you have a horse and cart ready?” 

Eill scoffed at Az’que as his fingers fiddled with one of the few Mytherion rings he had on his hand. “I wouldn’t waste money on a cart for your comfort and laziness. You get a horse and a satchel.”

“Do I have an allowance for rations at least?” Az’que could feel his stomach eating itself slowly as he thought about food, especially after his dream such and having such a lovely meal. He couldn’t remember the flavor, just the feeling. The warmth as the soup went down his throat and warmed his whole body, how it made him feel safe knowing who the soup was made by… he hated those types of dreams. It always made him want things he couldn’t have, it was a pain in the ass for him because his body always remembered how hungry it was after those dreams.

“Of course, but I’m adding it to your-” He was cut off by Az’que who already knew the answer to this.

“To my tab… yeah I know… How much more of that do I have Eill?” 

“Well let’s see now,” he reached inside of his fine coat and pulled out a small little ledger he always kept around. Keeping it close to himself as his eyes traced along with its text. “According to this… at least two more years work and you will be debt-free.” The pale man wore a weaselly smile that made his eyes squint. In the pits of those eyes, Az’que knew that man to be a lair. But he couldn’t do anything about it because of threats given to him if he thought about skipping out on these debts.

Az’que gave an incredulous glance at the ledger in front of him. “Can you give me an amount in Dr’as? Because I’ve been thinking about taking on a second job in order to pay it off quicker-”  
“The Dr’as amount is too high to calculate at this moment. I’ve just been able to grasp an idea of the amount of time it will take, so you’re better off simply sticking with me.” His smile fell and what was left was a cold expression that allowed for his ruthless eyes of business to be seen staring into the soul of Az’que.

“Well… with a second job I could just pay you back faster and have money for my own food.” Az’que’s gaze lowered in submission to the oppressive aura Eill had to him.

With a slow breath in Eill placed a hand on Az’que’s shoulder. “Listen here… it's hard to find jobs nowadays, so you’re honestly lucky I have enough jobs to give you to help pay off your debt.” He rubbed Az’que’s shoulder in a ‘comforting’ way, but to Az’que it was just oppressive and belittling. “With enough hard work and dedication, you can get to where I am, and maybe even get a Lord’s Title.” 

He just nodded at his comments. “I understand…” This wasn’t the first time he has brought up getting a second job and every time it was shot down. 

Eill pulled a few coins from his coin purse and handed them over to Az’que. “Here you go, five Dr’as should be enough to stock up some rations for your trip, right?”

Considering the trip to Kthator was a week’s long journey without snow, so with the current circumstances, it was going to end up an eight or nine-day trip. A little bit over two weeks for the whole round trip journey. Five Dr’as was good for… possibly ten days of rations meaning he would have to conserve for a few extra days. “Ah…” He couldn't ask for more, that would just mean paying back more and he didn’t even know how much this journey would pay off. “Five should be enough for the round trip.” 

Eill smiled once more. “Good, you have an hour to get your rations and whatever you need. The horse will be ready at the Ere’thar Stables.” Saying the name of the stable brought a pleased look to his eyes. The satisfaction of ownership pleased him to no end. 

“Yes sir.” Az’que immediately went on his way, brushing past Eill out of the alleyway and onto the cleared cobblestone streets of Athor. 

Az’que would make haste towards one of the supply shops before his journey. Unfortunately, he never slept in alleyways close to those shops because town guards usually told him to go to other areas from believing that he might burgle in the night. It was about 10 minutes to get to the shopping district, and a smaller detour to get to the small little supply shop. He looked through the window panting slightly from the light jog he made here, usually, a pace like that wouldn’t tire him out but considering how starved he was his body was straining to stay awake much less move with haste. His breaths would turn into mist at the frigid temperature as he looked into the warm interior. Catching his breath, he’d pull the door open and a little chime sounded though not as many chimes would ring as some of them had been caught up in themselves. This little discount supply shop wasn’t in the best place, but the people like him who would come here wouldn’t complain.

A woman behind the front desk with auburn hair looked up from a book she was reading toward Az’que as he entered in. “Ah, Az. What can I do for you today?” She stood up and placed the book she was reading down.

His eyes moved around the inside of the shop before catching hers. She would smile at him, yet he would keep a determined expression. “I just need however many rations five Dr’as can get me.”

Her smiled rested a bit into a neutral expression as she nodded. “Still not much for small talk after all these years, aye Az?”

He grinned half-heartedly through his unkempt beard, still dripping with melting ice. “Maybe next time, Fyndir. I have another job in an hour and right after this-”

She cut him off as she finished his sentence, “You have to go for atonement?”

He scratched the back of his neck and nodded. His journey ritual was a simple one that anyone could tell you just from barely knowing Az. Supplies then prayer. “Yeah… well. I’ve been lucky so far, so can you blame me?”

Fyndir let out a soft chuckle. “No, no I can’t. When you get back from this job, you can stop by for food you know.”

His eyes move away from hers at the offer and looks at the rations that were on a small shelf. “Thank you for the offer… But I’d hate to be a bother.”

She rolled her eyes at his comment. “You wouldn’t be a bother, really, I am the one offering. I hate seeing you like this every time you come to my shop.” Her eyes followed his to the food. “It could be the least I can do considering the business you give me.” Her jest may have been funny to herself though it just stabbed him that most of their interactions had been him coming to buy food from her and no conversations of real consequence because of how he lived.

“Mmm… Well if I have time after this job and whenever I’ll get assigned for another one, I’d love to take you up on that offer I guess.” He didn’t want to receive handouts because he felt as though everything he did had to be worked for. Though she seemed to be kind enough to not make this a handout, it was just… stopping by for a meal. A genuine smile broke through his bearded face. He grabbed up 10 rations off of the shelf and brought them to her counter.

“That’ll be 4 Dr’as.” She said with a smile as Az’que was about to place down all five he had on his person.

“But I thought it was-”

She cut him off, “It’s called a discount Az.”

He blinked. As much as he wanted to just pay her the normal amount so he wouldn’t feel the need to repay her kindness, he accepted this. He needed every Dr’as he could get and or keep to help pay off Eill. “Thank you…” He placed down the four Dr’as and looked into her eyes. “I’ll come here right after this job.”

She gave an acknowledging nod before pocketing the four Dr’as before him. “And if you don’t prices are gonna rise.” She jested once more to which he just rolled his eyes.

He put the rations away in a satchel he already had on his person. He began to leave just as the door’s chimes began to ring again as others began to enter in to get cheap supplies for their journey. 

“Remember Az, I’ll be waiting.” She called out to him 

He gave her a wave as he exited out of the front door. Part of him felt… giddy? No that was too childish of an expression to use. Better verbiage would be simply excited, he looked forward to it. He never really got the chance to dine with others or talk to many other people aside from Eill, Eill’s workers, and the customers to which Az’que sometimes delivered things to. He’d try to get this job done quicker than normal, who knows maybe Eill would reward him. With a newfound sense of reinvigoration from having something to look forward to, he would begin to make his way toward the church of the town.

From this part of the town, it was about a 7 minute light jog, though at the faster pace he went at as to not be late for the other arrangement he’d be there in 4 minutes. Also to that fact he wanted to do atonement as soon as possible, to him it wasn’t just being free of vices it was like being blessed for safe passage. He got to the well-built stone building towards the center of town. Beautifully carved stone walls stood tall and intricate designs of one of the gods were chiseled into parts of columns that reached up high to support the eave of the church. Az’que pushed into the building and creaked open a large wooden door. As he entered in the cold air followed and he watched the candles at the far end of the church would flicker slightly as the wind blew past him. His eyes would trail along with the stained glass that told a story of the children of Lukso, though these glass paintings took more emphasis on the strength of the god-children that slew the god-killer demons at the cost of their own lives. He always loved to look around the beautiful interior of this great hall and as he looked around his eyes moved to catch the man at the altar. A holy man who had a pipe between his lips raised his hand toward Az’que as his eyes fell upon him.

Taking the pipe out of his mouth the man called out to Az’que, “Az’que, it's a pleasure to see you this fine morning.” As he spoke smoke would fall from his mouth before he would just blow out the rest. 

Az’que frowned at this display. “It's a pleasure to see you too, Patron Killon…”

The man who looked to be barely 10 years Az’que’s senior let out a deep sigh. “Az’que… I am just enjoying the gifts of gods, you know the gods made this world so we could enjoy life on it.”

Az’que’s brow furrowed for a moment as he processed his words. “Patron… It wasn’t the  _ gods  _ it was the  _ god  _ Lukso, the father of the two Latnus and Cardain.” Patron Killon rolled his eyes for a moment before Az’que would continue to speak. “And the teachings of the church say that holy people should not indulge themselves on things that distract their minds from the gods-”

Killon cut him off. “Az… Listen, the teachings are more like directions. It’s about following and setting an example… only difference is that I usually don’t have to set an example for people until about ten when it’s the middle of the week.”

He just nodded as he listened. His only response to Killon’s words was that nod.

Killon pursed his lips for a moment in thought. “Az’que, why haven’t you joined the order? You seem to be knowledgeable, you seem to be one of the few people who come here for atonement and takes it to heart.” At his words, Az’que maintained eye contact with the man and continued to listen. “I know it might not mean much coming from me specifically, but… this lifestyle seems perfect for you.”

Az’que kept a neutral expression as Killon continued to speak. Though, his words did mean a lot to him. Even if Killon wasn’t the most respected patron out there, the fact a patron would speak so highly of Az’que meant so much to him. “Maybe… maybe in a few years Patron Killon. I have a debt I am paying off…”

Killon looked at Az’que with a puzzled look. “A debt? I didn’t take you for the gambling type.”

“No no,” he began, “I’ve been paying off medical debts for the past few years.”

Killon’s look only got more puzzled as this was the first he was hearing of it. Though truth be told, he never really spoke one on one with Az’que unless it was for atonement and he never went too deep into his history. Others in the ministry usually spoke one on one with Az’que because they usually took more time to get to know the people of the community. While Killon just spoke and helped people with atonement, that was his only real job here. “Mm… Well, when you get those debts paid off I’ll put in a good word for you to get some training to join the order.” He flashed a warm smile. “In any case, I believe you came here for a purpose, not just to hear me ramble. Or ramble at me.”

Az’que nodded and looked toward the door behind the altar. “I’d like to do an atonement before my next job.”

The patron would lead Az’que behind the altar and open the door that would lead into the Living Room. The tree that was in the center looked to almost be as old as this city, its roots were thick and its healthy appearance stood tall though still didn’t reach the glass ceiling that allowed for sunlight to hit its leaves. It was odd that it would have leaves during the winter, though it seemed to just be apart of the nature of the tree being within the confines of such ‘holy grounds’. Two chairs would be on either side of the tree almost facing one another, but more askew. As they made their way toward the tree two others of the ministry would be tending to some of the other plants and greenery that populated the room. Seeing a patron enter this room with someone made them bow their heads and leave.

Without instruction, Az’que would sit in the chair to the right of the tree and would look towards Killon.

Killon pulled a necklace off of his neck. It bore the symbol of Latnus, a sword tucked behind a shield with the cardinal directions on the shield to show that ‘through strength and determination you can always find your way’. It would have been easily missed seeing as it was tucked into his vestments. The warm robes of winter that were white and with cloth pauldrons with yellow accents would have very much distracted from his necklace even if he didn’t tuck it away. He stepped towards Az’que as he was sitting down and placed the necklace in Az’que’s hand who was now extending his hand out. “Here you go.” Az’que’s hand didn’t tense up, nor did his arm buckle at the weight of the Mytherion necklace.

His hands wrapped around it and held it to his chest and closed his eyes as Killon would watch Az’que.

“Tell me what vices do you wish to speak of and for me to lift off your heart, Child of the Makers?” Patron Killon closed his eyes as he spoke. His breathing would get very steady as he seemed to get into a near meditative state as the atonement would begin.

“I would like to confess my desire, witness of Latnus.” As Az’que responded the Mytherion necklace would heat up against his palm and fingers that wrapped around the necklace.

“What do you have to desire.” It was a question Killon would have just asked, though in this state his proper role as  _ Patron  _ Killon had to be completed. 

“I…,” Az’que began, “I have desired wealth. I have desired a better life, and for that, I wish to atone for not being satisfied with the  _ gifts of the gods. _ ” That last part was a jab at Killon’s earlier statement. It brought a smile to Killon’s lips, but Az’que wouldn’t see it. “The sacrifices of the Children of Lukso provide everything for me to be satisfied.”

Killon’s brow furrowed. He could understand what Az’que was saying, but the fact he would minimize his own issues by comparing them to the acts of literal gods seemed to be unfair to himself. However, these were Killon’s own thoughts, not the thoughts of him as a Patron. “Now why is this not greed?”

“I am not willing to put others at harm for myself in order to achieve what I have desired. I simply desire for things to be better in my life, though I don’t want it to be at anyone else’s expense.” Az’que’s voice was very still as he spoke and the dull ‘uncomfortable’ heat of the Mytherion was almost comforting to him. It was as if the gods were watching him and were leading him along the best path.

Killon let out a soft breath at Az’que’s words. “Do you have any other vices you wish to atone for?”

“I suppose resentment…” His voice was soft, however, despite these vices, he would admit to the weight of the Mytherion didn't bother him the entire time. “I resent the situation I am in and the circumstances for which I am constantly working.”

The patron could remember other atonements he had done with Az’que, remember similar vices, though he still had to go through with the ritual. “Az’que. You are a noble-hearted man, one ‘Luxs would be envious of in pureness.”

His eyes moved underneath their eyelids in confusion at the patron’s words. It was usually more formal than this.

“As the holy witness your vices have been atoned for, and I shall pray for your strength in resisting such vices again. I also pray that when the time comes you can find the path to the order to come without issue.” 

At his words, the heat of the necklace went away, and if there were any excess weight to the necklace, it would have faded away. Az’que would open his eyes and meet the gaze of Killon. “Thank you for your time Patron Killon.” He’d stand up and walk to hand over the Mytherion necklace to him. 

Killon looked up at Az’que as he held the necklace. “Az’que… when I handed the necklace to you there seemed to be no weight that bothered you.”

Az’que tilted his head and looked down toward the patron who continued to sit. “I… Suppose there was no excess weight…”

“Why did you atone for vices that don’t weigh on you?” Killon finally stood up, though he didn’t grab the necklace back from Az’que.

“I just have had those thoughts before… and I'm not infallible. I couldn’t just say ‘I have nothing to atone for.’” Az’que shrugged. He didn’t really see the problem, it was better to get the weight of vices he believed to have on his mind off than to let them potentially fester before they truly became realized. 

“Az, you are literally one of the only people who I think could actually say that.” It left Killon’s mouth with a matter-of-fact tone.

Az’que just scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. “Patron, you speak too highly of me… I’m just trying to live what life I can with the circumstances that have been dealt to me, I have done nothing worthy to be compared to a champion. And I am definitely not someone who has nothing to atone for.”

Killon knew his words could only do so much; his words wouldn’t be able to change Az’que’s belief in himself, so he just let out a soft sigh. “Still, you are a truly noble man.” His eyes moved to the necklace. “I’d like you to take that with you wherever you go. It would do a symbol of Latnus better to belong to a man of honor than… me.”

“You are honorable, you’re a patron?”

His eyes moved from the necklace back up to Az’que’s eyes. “Anyone can be a patron, I became one. Not everyone can be a good patron, and I know you would make a great one. It’s not just that you're knowledgeable, it all means a lot to you. This all has weight to you and you would treat this position with respect.”

Az’que smiled through his beard and nodded in thanks to Killon’s words. “I can’t accept all these kind words you have to offer me, but just thank you for seeing all this in me.” In a life where he was dejectedly moving on day to day waiting for the day his debts would be paid off through work, these kind words and actions sparked hope. Maybe the days would move by faster and even if not he could hold his head high because of what he had to look forward to. Something that had left him for a while had now auspiciously returned, hope.

Seeing Killon smile made him feel as though maybe he could actually do something as a patron. “Now you should get on your way, I believe you have a job to get to pay off that debt of yours.” Even if Az’que didn’t mention he had a job today, Killon knew he usually came here before jobs. Though it wasn’t till today that he knew he was doing them to pay off debts.

Az’que nodded and tried to check his internal clock of how long its been, and he would only guess he had spent about 20 minutes on his tasks. Az’que exited the Living Room with Killon and walked past the altar. There was a little donation box in front of the altar and Az’que would drop the single Dr’as he had to his name at the moment in it. 

Killon saw this, and saw how disheveled his clothes were. He frowned slightly. These donations were supposed to be used to help those less fortunate, those who needed it. Az’que needed these donations in Killon’s eyes. He  _ deserved  _ them, and he believed that the others in this ministry would agree to it knowing Az’que. He’d make a promise to himself that he would help him. “Hey Az’que before you go, do you mind telling me who you’re indebted to?”

“Eill Ere’thar,” Az’que said as he was making his way to the front door of the church.

Killon fell silent. That was a dangerous man to be indebted to, his reach stretched across the nation. Though he was known as a nobleman, he could potentially be reasoned with. He’d see and do what he could. “Good… good to know, may Latnus defend you in your journey Az’que.”

Az’que smiled as his hand rested on the door handle. “Patron Killon, I hope the path of Latnus may lead you to understand that you are honorable in your position even if you can’t accept it yet.” And with that Az’que would leave into the cold wind. Making his way to the Ere’thar stables.

As he would leave Az’que’s words would stick with Killon. His words were things that he would never accept mainly because he felt like he never could. After all, others would always see the faults in his actions. Looking toward his pipe he sighed. He chose the order. It’s about time he started acting more like a proper patron.

And with that Az’que had touched lives today, and lives had touched him. As hope had sparked within, he planned, for the first time, for the future. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this week, I hope you all enjoyed this week's chapter. Feel free to leave kudos and comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking the time to read! Please leave a comment and/or kudos below.


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